Dusk Mountain Blues

by Deston Munden

  ​Drifter frowned. “Evan did that?”

  ​“Your kids been really stepping up to the plate, Luke.” Pit reclined on the couch, petting his dog (or dogs?). “Jo and Evan’s kept tabs on the Coats while Woody handled gettin’ us all on one page. Y’know, I’m sorry for ever doubting your kids. Without ’em, I think we would’ve done somethin’ real stupid...again. We’re lucky that the Bluecoats ain’t acting yet. Probably doing like us, trying to get their acts together for a final push. Woody wanted to talk ’bout the plan in small groups. He should be back in a few.”

  ​Drifter stole a look at Mary, who didn’t seem at all surprised by the prospect of Appetite taking the lead. Leadership hadn’t appealed to him before. Always the follower; never the leader, a common trap for brillant fellas like Woody. That had changed. Seeing his pa touching death must’ve lit a dormant spark in the young man’s noggin.

  Pride as thick as mud ran through Drifter at the thought of his oldest boy taking the helm. The worry of any parent boiled down to a single thing: how will they manage when you’re gone? To see that in his absence their world wouldn’t fall apart brought a tear to the old eye.

  Among all the pride, there was a small feeling that he was stupid to try to ignore; he felt a little worthless. They don’t need you anymore. Nobody does. He swallowed and choked the thought down like warm, cheap beer. Didn’t bring nothin’ to the table. The next generation needed to step up at some point. He pushed the thought deeper inside and outta his head. You haffta step aside some time, Luke. It’s how it is.

  He took his seat beside Pit and his excitable dog, Mary Lu right beside him.

  Not even a minute later, the door swung open.

  There was a certain grace in the way Appetite came in. He didn’t burst through the door with the weight of his entire body, but was instead smooth and effortless like a massive predatory cat. Drifter noticed that for the first time in a while, he kept Ham Bone on him, the massive shotgun in its holster on his hip. He also couldn’t help but notice that the boy was big. Standing upright with his head a little higher, he dwarfed everyone.

  Sprinkles jumped from his owner’s lap and towards Appetite, barking and jumping from excitement. He petted her with a grin.

  Vermin, Shepherd, Eleen the Silk Spider, and Scott “Tiger” Caldwell shuffled in behind him. The second generation of Caldwells was a diverse group, like their fathers. Drifter hadn’t seen them together in a long time. Though not nearly as close as the first generation among themselves, the oldest kids had their own bond. It wasn’t easy. The cousins didn’t like each other much, at first, touching dangerously close to hating each other at points. Drifter always thought that was his own shortcoming. With everyone already against you, you didn’t need your family added to that list.

  “Looks like everybody’s here,” Appetite said, closing the door. He took the seat closest to the door.

  “Looks like you brought the gang too.” Moses smiled, giving his smaller and well-built son Tiger a big hug. Tiger gave a small smile on his soft face with a dark beard, his one good eye gleaming with pride. The father rustled his fingers through his boy’s hair. “I didn’t know you were back on planet.”

  “Came back this mornin’.” Tiger took a deep breath and shook his head. “I leave for a while and everythin’ goes to the crapper. C’mon, guys, didn’t I teach you better than that?” He grinned. “Y’all supported me during my tough times, the least I can do is come back and give these guys what’s coming to ’em.”

  “You’re lookin’ good, Scott,” Drifter said.

  “Feel much better too, Uncle Luke. Feeling much more like myself these days. Been spendin’ every credit I can trying to pay for the dang thing. Hadn’t even had the chance to buy myself some new clothes on my way back. I have a box of my old clothes for Kindle if she wants it. She should be about my size now.” He laughed.

  Moses gave his son another hug. “We’ll fix you up, don’t you worry about that.”

  ​They exchanged a few talks back and forth through the family, catching up on everything that’d happened. All the while, Appetite waited in the patient way only he could, petting the happily yapping three-headed dog on his lap. They went through their greetings and pleasantries, their news and gossip, before reeling back around to the elephant in the room. Drifter found himself about to speak when Appetite shook his head. They needed to get away from it for a little while. He’s right, gotta let ’em be people first. That’s why we’re in this mess in the first place. Maybe he could learn a little patience.

  Drifter stirred in his chair, trying to keep himself from fidgeting. Mary Lu slapped his thigh to keep him still. When they finished their chatter, Appetite took the center stage. Eleen quieted everyone down with a sharp hand.

  ​“Thanks Elly.” Appetite took a deep breath. “Y’all know why we’re here. I’ve already made this talk a couple of times before. I’ll cut to the chance. I think I know why they Coats are here.” Drifter felt his stomach drop. “’Course, they want to get rid of us for their colony. But they got me thinkin’. Uncle Bobby collected things and put them at the Drum. It only make sense they found somethin’ special here. Then I got thinking, why would they come all the way back to a backwater planet to kill a few mutants? Why would they come all this way and send a Major and Captain? Don’t make no sense unless we had a thing. Then I got thinkin’ again, what is something every colony needs?”

  ​The old boys - Drifter included - blinked at the thought. Doc might’ve figured it out if he wasn’t too busy tinkering.

  “A good place to live. This planet isn’t like the others around; it’s almost perfect. I hadn’t thought about it before. Wouldn’t have if Scott didn’t turn up. They’re lookin’ for a terraforming core. It’s the only thing that makes sense. The rest of the Dusk Orbit planets aren’t nearly as good as this one. “

  ​It made sense. Drifter knew vaguely about terraforming cores. They weren’t a thing they could recreate without having one intact, which they hadn’t had any luck with so far. When the first Civilization fell apart, they left a whole lotta things behind;. so much that they had plenty to live on for decades. It only made sense that the dead shell of what they once were would try to recollect an arm or a leg of itself once in a while. A discovery like that might turbo charge them into all types of developments for the shareholders and catch the interest their higher-ups.

  Drifter stroked his beard. “It’s the reason why they’re takin’ it slow with us and not blasting us away.”

  ​“It makes sense.” Doc nodded. “Terraforming technology ain’t easy to make on such a large scale.”

  ​“Putting it like that.” Pit sat up, interested. “It would jump start their technology by years, decades even. You can’t say that it ain’t a good idea to swipe it before they do. Maybe even get rid of it all together.”

  ​Drifter shook his head. “We’ll cross that road when we get there. We haffta find it first. Got any ideas?”

  ​“I was hoping that y’all would know,” Appetite asked.

  ​Every child took a look at their father; Eleen’s calm and sure, Vermin’s anxious, Shepherd’s impatient, Tiger’s interested. Drifter locked eyes with his son, and the cool, patient expression on his face softened.

  Drifter rolled his shoulders and exchanged a look with his wife. She shrugged back. Drifter pinched his nose, looking out into the living room but letting his mind relax. He knew a lot about C’dar, being he’d lived here since he was younger lad. Over fifty years wasn’t nearly enough time to search the entire planet, not even with all the extra eyes and hands around. There were bound to be places they hadn’t gone. Ain’t enough time in the world. Drifter dove into his thoughts, trying to find a place where a goody like that would be.

  Then it hit him; one place was big enough for that. One that he had been to, but…

  ​There were nasty things in the Old City, the one they cut through to get to Coyote’s place. They had tried to explore it before. Wild mut
ants, malfunctioning Old World ’roids, and strange, dangerous animals roamed that place. Drifter always thought it was a bit big for a colony city, perhaps a haphazard start to fancy capital city or some sort. Big people liked their big buildings. What they liked more was messing with things they should’nt’ve. We’re a good example of that, Drifter thought.

  “I think I might have a good place to look,” Drifter said finally. “Old City. Only place I can think of that we ain’t searched. Too dangerous before.”

  ​Appetite smirked. A sinister thing, one that Drifter caught himself doing from time to time.

  Appetite paced around the room, heavy thuds of his boots pounding into the floor. “Sounds like a good place to start. Whether it’s there or not ain’t important; what’s important comes down to how greedy the Coats are.” He scanned the crowd, looking for the spark of inspiration. “We know about greed. We can get a good jump on them there, and best case scenario is that they take the bait. They can’t sit on us like they did at the Drum. Out there, we can give ’em what they paid for - a fight.” Black grit caked those last words in a certainty he hadn’t heard before.

  A fight; and not a fair one. Drifter realized that. They weren’t gonna drive them off with power and anger. No, that hadn’t been how he was taught. Did a fish have a chance to complain at the end of a hook? Nah. Play dirty or don’t play at all.

  “So, how ’bout it,” Drifter said, taking in a deep breath. “Let’s hammer out details to give ’em hell.”

  Chapter 14

  Vanilla and Cloves

  Kindle

  “You don’t understand what’s going on here. A little lamb lost in a field, waiting for a wolf to snap your neck with its teeth. Let me enlighten you.”-- Ignace Breaux

  Kindle thought all of this was stupid. She didn’t think of herself as somebody with a temper until this very moment, dealing with an uncle she hadn’t even known until now. The dark-skinned man with a spiderwebbed scar on his face always watched her. His people were everywhere, as plentiful and annoying as a swarm of mosquitoes. Their gazes weren’t too different from a bug bite, either; a minor annoyance that she scratched more than advised.

  Today, he joined her at one of the market stalls and soured her meal with his company. Elijah, a friend of her pa’s who owned the stand, gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes. “Meal’s on him, Cass,” the gruff stall owner muttered, pushing over another bowl of stewed beef before shuffling away. She took it happily. Ignace didn’t need to know that it was already on the house.

  ​“What, you can’t even say hi to your uncle?” Ignace leaned in. “The Caldwells are all ’bout family, right?”

  ​“I don’t know you.”

  ​“How’s that my fault?” Ignace managed a smile. It didn’t look quite right on his face. The scar dug deep into his skin, leaving half of his face unresponsive, like a poorly-made action figure. The dent in the right side of his shaved scalp only cultivated that crazed look. Like every Breaux and member of this village, when she stared at him for too long something ’bout him changed, as though he came out of focus. She often wondered if the mysterious natives did it on purpose. “All this time and you hadn’t met any of us. Yet, the very moment something bad happens up on that mountain, y’all come runnin’. I’m not sure why I’m surprised. In this galaxy, when someone wants to know something, they come to us - ”

  ​He said something else, but Kindle promptly ignored him. She stuffed some of the stew in her mouth and focused on that instead. The man rambled on and on about one thing or another, trying to goad her, get a reaction of some sort. She wasn’t gonna play this game with him. Not today. Or...at least that was what she thought until the she heard her mom’s name leave his lips. Kindle snapped her attention at him, frowning, face warm. She swallowed hard, almost choking on the beef she was savoring only seconds before.

  “’Scuse me, but what?”

  ​Ignace laughed, leaning back. He pulled a long ornate pipe from his pocket, lit it, and began smoking it. An odd light blue smoke danced from his lips, smelling of fresh vanilla and ground cloves. They called it the White Noise, a highly addictive depressant cultivated from one of the Early Lights planets. One of her cousins had tried it once; messed him up bad, so bad that even to this day the taste of vanilla sent him into a cold sweat. Kindle tried it once...and it didn’t do much of anything for her.

  Ignace gave another puff, making no effort to change the direction of the smoke. A minor annoyance atop a mountain of them.

  ​“What did you say about my mom?” Kindle asked.

  ​“Oh, now you’re listening?”

  ​“’Cause you have something I actually want to hear.”

  ​“Rude. Where’s your manners?”

  ​“Where’s yours?” Kindle snapped, slamming her fork on the counter. “Gettin’ your thrills picking on a fifteen-year-old girl. I don’t have time for this, Uncle Ig.”

  ​He frowned, annoyance a fire in his eyes. “You look like her, but you sound like him.” The venom in his voice made it sound like it was forged as an insult in his head. When that didn’t work, he dug deeper with a nail into the heart. “Ina didn’t want to leave, you do know that right? It wasn’t a choice she made. It hurt her to leave. The very last thing she wanted was to go, to leave your dearest pa and her newly born daughter. But she left. She left to make sure that you stayed alive.” Another puff from that sweet smoke. Another half-smile. “You weren’t sick when you were born. The Flame’s selfish. It only wanted one.”

  ​“What do you get out of this?” Kindle stood up, heart slamming against her ribs. What did he get out of this? Telling her this only served to hurt her. An anger like no other swept through - hot, wild, and terrible like a desert storm. She clawed at the stall counter, wood peeling underneath her nails. She wanted to shout louder than that, shout so loud that her throat felt raw and pained, but she knew that would only give him more of that gross satisfaction he craved. Try as she might, she couldn’t bring her anger down. It continued to boil underneath every word and every thought. “Didya hate my mom as much as you hate my dad? Do I happen to be everyone you hate wrapped up in a single person? If so, must be real satisfying for you right now, I reckon. I’m glad I can make you feel better.”

  ​“You’re wrong.”

  ​“What?”

  ​“You’re wrong. I care ’bout Ina. And yes, I hate your dad with every fiber of my being; but there’s one person that I hate more.” Ignace blew out a ring of smoke, face relaxing. Whether it was from the weed or the thought, Kindle couldn’t tell. “And you have been playing into his hand since you got here. When will you wake up and see that I’ve never been your enemy, and I don’t care either way if you like me more or not? What bothers me is seeing a sheep sitting by the wolf, not knowing it’s there. You’re much too smart for that, little sheep. Wake up.”

  ​Elijah stomped in from around the stall, sleeves rolled to his veiny forearms. “Alright, that’s enough, Ignace. Go bother someone else, will ya. The girl’s trying to eat.”

  ​Kindle took a glance at her plate, long forgotten and growing cold on the table. Ignace tapped his pipe dry, noticing the food for the first time, the used leaves’ ashes sprinkling on the ground. He tossed some credits their way, the small chips clattering onto the table, and thankfully left without another word.

  The rage he left her with remained and festered in her chest. She managed to keep the tears in, lower lip trembling from the effort. All she could imagine was her mother holding her in her arms, knowing she had to leave her daughter and her father without a word. There was a bliss in not knowing her mother’s pain, the choice she made. She hated that she knew and her father, abandoned and forever heartbroken, didn’t. How’s Pa gonna react? Is this even true? Was he lying? Why would he lie? She watched him, hated him, and wished she could learn more.

  ​“Don’t worry about it, kid. He’s trying to get in your head,” Elijah said, giving her an awkward reassuring tap on the shoulder. �
��He’s like that with everyone…”

  ​“Is it true that he had a good relationship with my mom?”

  ​Elijah cocked his head. “No one disliked Ina. She was a nice kid that grew into a good woman. She wasn’t perfect, but ain’t nobody. We all thought she was a wild girl who fell in love with an outsider and got cold feet. That was what it looked like..but…” He took a deep breath. “It’s worth looking into, champ. He could be lying, he could be telling the truth; there could be something in between we can’t see. The best you can do is find out what you can while you’re here.”

  ​“Thanks, Elijah.”

  ​The man grunted and grinned, much like what her pa would’ve done after a good piece of advice. Kindle saw in that instant how they became friends. After an awkward one-armed hug, he sent her on her way with a canteen of the unfinished stew. His kind words and hospitality eased the anger and confusion swelling all over body. She had to find out what was going on here, and answers didn’t find themselves - well...not usually.

  Kindle waved a final goodbye to Elijah, stuffing the canteen in her bag and heading off through the market and back towards the grand manor. As she walked, she thought she caught another whiff of that sickly-sweet vanilla and found herself hating her uncle all over again.

  ***

  ​Remy wasn’t home and Kindle wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

  ​The manor was empty except from the quiet servants in pale white masks scurrying from floor to floor. Living here for a little over a week now, she had learned it was easy to forget the servants existed or if they were even human. Staring at them she realized they might’ve not been at all. Their bodies moved stiffly, like their bones were made of wood and their skin of stones. She also hadn’t realized they hadn’t spoken to her much either. Her imagination stole away pieces of her confidence. What were they? Did he make him? Were they ’roids or some other sorta sentient life? How loyal were they to Remy? Second by second, new questions flooding in every moment. She wished her dad was here, or at least her grandpa.